Droplets of Glitter
by TellNoOne
Summary: Sam Evans was a family man-always had been and always would be. Married to the beautiful Mercedes Jones, and blessed with three children-Sam gets to experience the life he'd always wanted and it just gets better and better every day.
1. A Day in the Life

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sam and Mercedes, but their world is mine!

I have no idea where this story is going, and I don't think it'll be completely linear, but I hope you enjoy it!

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><p><strong>September 2, 2029 (Monday)<strong>

**Evans' Home—Living Room**

**Huntington, NY**

**5:43PM**

Sitting on the light oak hardwood flooring of the living room, absently watching the football game that was on mute—it was just playing on the screen of a hard-earned 72-inch high-definition television, and coloring in a princess activity book was the perfect way to spend a lazy Thursday afternoon.

Spread out all over the light oak coffee table that rested atop a patterned rug in the center of the room; were those awesome twistable crayons, several markers, and a pack of glitter color pencils. Quite oddly, there was a glass bottle of soda in the middle of the table and on the other end was a clear-plastic cup filled with apple juice.

Two pairs of feet were stretched out under the table—a pair belonging to a grown man and the other seemed comically small next to them. The man was wearing a pair of plain white socks—and the little person next to him had socks with pink and orange stripes.

A thirty-six year old Sam Evans was sitting on one side of the coffee table, hunched over his coloring book as he worked on making Rapunzel look beautiful. His five year old daughter, Lali Anna Evans, was right next to him.

He could see her twist herself so she could get a good look at his picture. Sam pretended not to notice, but he really wanted to laugh at the curiosity that was sparkling in her green eyes.

Lali was the cutest thing—she had dark brown ringlets that framed her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were huge, and green just like his and her lashes were ridiculously long. Sam would admit that she had him wrapped around her mocha finger.

Sam scribbled some more on his picture, before he leaned towards Lali to glance at her picture.

She didn't seem to notice him at first—she was coloring intently; her tongue poking out of her mouth a bit as she concentrated—but she turned to grab another crayon and saw him.

"_Daddy!"_ she squealed as she rapidly threw her arms over her paper. "No cheatin'!"

Sam bit back a laugh as he put his hands up in surrender.

"But, Lali-bug, you're so much better than me at coloring!" he told her dramatically. The way her eyes lit up made his heart swell with love. "Are you sure you don't want to help your poor, _old_ daddy?"

Lali squinted at him. Sam was busting a gut internally—she was so serious that it was adorable.

"You_ are_ bad at colorin' in the lines," Lali finally said and Sam gaped at her.

He wasn't expecting that!

"_Excuse _me, Miss Bug?" Sam demanded—his tone was playfully indignant and it made his daughter giggle. "I am not bad at coloring in the lines!"

"Daddy," Lali said—her tone long-suffering as if Sam should've known that he was bad at coloring in the world of five-year olds. It probably would've been less amusing if Sam didn't write and illustrate his own comic book series. "Look at your _pictures_—mommy says that if you need help, you gots to ask for it."

"Are you saying I need drawing lessons?" Sam asked.

"All mommies and daddies need drawin' lessons," Lali replied. Sam laughed and then reached out for her.

"Why you _little_—"Sam said as he tried to poke the girl in the side. She was too fast for him though and she crawled under the table to get away from him. Sam followed her with a fake roar. "I'm gonna get you, Lali-Bug!"

Her curls bouncing and arms flailing, Lali ran around the living room as fast as she could. Her pink shirt with spaghetti straps, an empire waist created by a bow that tied in the back, and a billowy base—flared around her as she sprinted away from him. He chased her around the couches, around the coffee table, before he finally grabbed her.

She let out a loud cry of "_Daddy, no!"_ as he swept her into his arms and spun around in circles.

He stopped a moment later and then flopped backwards onto the couch.

He held her close so she wouldn't spazz out on his lap and fall. Her eyes were scrunched shut but she was smiling and Sam had to grin at her. Lali was still giggling when she opened her eyes.

Sam flicked her nose lightly and he laughed when she automatically wrinkled it. He brushed a couple of her curls out of her face and she batted his hand away. His heart almost melted though when she plopped down on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Can I have my juice, Daddy?" she asked.

Sam kissed her forehead, before he leaned forward and grabbed the cup off the coffee table.

"Careful," he told her sternly—his wife would kill him if she spilled on the couch.

Lali gave him a sassy look that came straight from her mother.

"I _know_, daddy!" she said as she took it out of his hand and slowly took a sip. Sam's lips twitched.

She was being extra gentle and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen. She finished the whole glass and Sam placed the empty cup on the coffee table again. He leaned back into the couch cushions and Lali relaxed into his embrace.

His fingers ran through her curls as they laid there and watched football—even if Lali had no idea what was going on; she would sit there with him every time. The father-daughter moment was shattered abruptly when a door opened upstairs and the yelling started.

"I already said _no_, Abby!"

"But mama, I don't see why not? Everyone is going to this party and I—"

"Everyone is _not_ going, because I know for a fact that you aren't!"

"This isn't _fair_!"

"_Life_ isn't fair, so suck it up and—" Sam winced when there was the loud sound of a door slamming shut and he prayed to every deity he could think of that his thirteen year old daughter hadn't just closed the door in her mother's face, because if she did—she might not make it through the night.

"_Uh-oh_," Lali said. Sam glanced down at his youngest and had to agree with her. The disconcerted expression on his face complimented the wide eyes she was sporting. Both of them sat up from their previous cuddling position.

"_**Oh, hell to the no!"**_ The absolute rage and indignation he heard in his wife's voice immediately brought a grimace to his face. "_Abigail Victoria Evans_—you open this door this instant, young lady."

Lali's hands were over her mouth in shock and her eyes were huge. "Daddy," she whispered anxiously, "Is Abby about to get a spankin'?"

Sam so badly wanted to laugh, because her expression was hilarious, but he was worried about his wife and his eldest child's fate. "Let's hope not, Lali-Bug," Sam told her as he stood up from the couch. He set his five-year old on the floor. "I'm going to go help mommy, sweetheart. Why don't you color some more pictures?"

"Can we put them up?" Lali asked.

"Yeah, I'll help you frame them later, okay?"

"'Kay, daddy," Lali agreed. Sam turned and high-tailed it upstairs as she sat down in her previous place and started coloring again.

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><p><strong>September 2, 2029 (Monday)<strong>

**Evans' Home—Living Room**

**Huntington, NY**

**5:59PM**

As soon as he spotted her from the landing of the stairs, Sam knew that his wife was _done _with their daughter's sudden bad attitude. Her body language spoke volumes: hands on her hips, feet shoulder width apart and the expression she wore was _dangerous_.

"I will give you _five _seconds to open this door, Abigail," she said, "And if I have to open it—I will take you over my knee, spank you and then I'll ground you for a month."

"_Go away!"_

"Every second I wait—I'm adding a week to your sentence—"Her voice was thunderous and Sam knew that she was about to bust down their kid's door. He walked towards her.

"Cede," he called softly and her gaze swung to him. He almost flinched when he realized just how pissed off she was. There was no talking her down when she got to this point. And he couldn't blame her, really.

Abigail was usually a sweet girl—she had attitude of course; she was the daughter of Mercedes Jones, but she always had good manners, did all her homework, played sports, hung out with friends. They had never had a serious problem with her before—except when she was two and kept trying to wander off everywhere.

But ever since she'd been invited to this Welcome Back Slumber party that one of the kids at her school was throwing—she'd been practically insufferable. It didn't help that both he and Mercedes flat out told her no.

They would've been fine with it—but they had never met this girl or her parents. And Abigail knew the rules. If we don't know them—we have to meet them and if we haven't known them for at least three weeks—you're not staying at their house unsupervised; especially not for a slumber party.

It had been that way all her life—and the rule applied to her, her eleven-year old brother Lane, and Lali. It wasn't going to magically change.

Mercedes made a frustrated motion towards the door and Sam sighed heavily. He hated doing this, but this situation had gone on long enough.

"Abby, open the door," he said—loud enough for her to hear through the wooden door separating them.

"_No!"_ she shouted back, and Sam was not happy.

"Abigail," he said—his voice low and intense, "That _wasn't _a request."

It was silent for a moment, but the door swung open a second or two later.

Her face was streaked with tears and her brown eyes were angry. Sam's heart clenched—he hated it when his kids cried, but she wasn't getting out of this one.

"I've had enough of this," he said and she opened her mouth to say something. Sam shot her a look and she fell silent. "The answer is _no_. It's not going to change—no matter how much you yell or scream or cry. This rule was decided upon before you were born and it's not changing now. _Do you understand me_?"

The meek nod he got in reply made him continue, "Your attitude leaves much to be desired. For that alone, you're grounded for the next two weeks, but what I'm mostly upset about is the disrespect you've given your mom and I for the last week. You don't_** ever**_ slam a door in your mother's face—am I clear?"

"Yes daddy," she replied—her eyes suddenly swelling with tears again. This time her gaze wasn't as angry—much more guilty and ashamed. Sam really hoped she was coming back down to earth; he had no desire to punish her even more.

"Good," Sam said, "but just to make sure that I'm _crystal clear_—you're grounded for a month and a half _after_ that two weeks."

The devastated look on her face almost broke his resolve, but he wasn't going to let any disrespect to her mother slide. She would learn her lesson—and she would know it for the rest of her life.

"As of this moment, all your phone, TV, and social internet privileges have been taken away," Sam told her and Abigail really started crying then. His heart strings were being tugged in every direction, but those bright brown eyes weren't going to get him this time. "Hand over the cell-phone and your laptop—I'll block all the sites I want on your computer until this punishment is over. You're on twice a week trash duty and you come straight home after rehearsals or practice."

"I have a group project coming up next week," Abigail told him and Sam nodded.

"Then you can use the house phone for it," Mercedes replied, "And only when one of us is present."

Nodding, Abigail did as she was told, but once Sam dismissed her she fled back into her room and closed the door gently. They both heard her start sobbing though.

Mercedes walked down the hallway and went straight into the master bedroom. He could tell that she was still mad as hell. Sam followed her—his daughter's cell-phone and laptop in his hands.

He sat them down on the desk and then dropped into the desk chair.

"I feel like the worst dad on the planet," Sam groaned. He hated when he had to yell at his munchkins. They were so cute and smart and he hated seeing them cry, but his parents had disciplined him as a child and he'd turned out pretty nicely.

"Boy, don't even!" Mercedes told him. Sam looked over at her and laughed at the sarcastic look she was giving him. She was so beautiful—he loved just looking at her.

Her hair was lightly curled today and it fell around her shoulders. She was wearing an ivory sweater dress with a wide scoop neck. The sleeves started just below her shoulders—leaving her neck and the top of her shoulders bare. She used a darn brown leather belt to create an empire waist and the rest of the dress flared out until it stopped a couple of inches above her knee. She had been wearing a pair of brown leather boots earlier, but he guessed that she'd taken them off when she got back from picking up Abigail.

She had lost weight over the years, which Sam was still conflicted about. He liked his lady just fine however she was, but Mercedes was one determined woman—especially when it came to her children.

During all three pregnancies—Mercedes ate fruits and vegetables and memorized a low fat cook book. She took a ton of vitamins and walked for two hours every morning and night. It was definitely something to see—he'd been dragged along for all of it. She told him the only reason she did it was because she wanted to give her kids the best life possible and he fell even more in love with her after that.

Sam thought it was cute how she was so protective over their kids.

"What'd I do now?" he joked as he stood up from his chair.

Mercedes shook her head. "How can you possibly think that you're a horrible dad? Did you see how quickly her attitude changed when_ you_ were doing the yelling?"

"Are you saying I'm scary?" Sam asked—finally getting close enough to his wife to place his hands on her waist. With a sigh, she leaned back into his chest. Sam wrapped his arms around her and he felt her fingers trace across the back of his hand—lingering on the cool metal of his silver wedding band.

"I'm saying that they listen immediately when you talk," Mercedes replied, "which makes no sense because you're such a softie!"

"That's probably why, Lady," Sam responded and Mercedes threw her arms into the air out of frustration.

"Does that make me the mean old lady?" she grumped. Sam laughed and pulled away so he could turn her around. She looked up at him with those brown eyes and Sam frowned when he saw how upset she was.

"They don't think you're the mean old lady, Cede," Sam answered, "Abigail just finds it easier to get mad at you, because she's so much like you."

"_Nope_, that's_** your**_ daughter," she told him.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she's a mini you," Sam replied, "Which is why you get into so many arguments. And that also explains why she likes me so much."

"Wow, Sam," Mercedes said, "make me feel better there!"

"She'll cool down, Lady," Sam told her, "She just needs to cry it out, gain some perspective, and she'll get her head on straight. Sound_ familiar_ to anyone?"

"Nope," Mercedes replied making Sam laugh.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked in amusement.

"That doesn't sound familiar at all," Mercedes responded, "My husband is delusional!"

"Delusional?" Sam said with a laugh, "You do the _exact _same thing!"

"No, I don't," Mercedes protested—Sam wasn't fooled; he could see the amusement building in her eyes. Which explains why she tried to get out of his embrace, but that wasn't going to fly with him.

"Yes, you do," Sam said as he held her tighter—she started squirming around, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"No, I really don't," Mercedes answered.

"How is your reaction any different?" Sam questioned and Mercedes stopped wriggling enough to shoot him a coy look from under her lashes.

"I usually get to have angry sex before I calm down," she told him—and Sam's jaw dropped open slightly in shock. Mercedes burst out laughing and he couldn't help snickering with her.

He really hadn't been expecting that answer, but she was quite impish at times. And Mercedes during pregnancy had been near insatiable—he was a very happy man those years.

"Does this time count too?" Sam asked hopefully.

"_No!"_ Mercedes responded, "I'm still mad at you for stealing all the blankets last night!"

Last night had been a good night too. Sam was very aware that Mercedes loved sex just as much as he did. The first two years they had been married—Lord, they'd had sex_ everywhere_. It made him blush sometimes to think about the things that they did back then, before the kids and their rise in careers.

Not to say that they had slowed down in any way—they got their groove on at least three times a week. Sam was a_ lucky_ man.

"You weren't complaining before we fell asleep," Sam told her with a smug smile. Mercedes rolled her eyes in fond amusement.

"It's almost _fall._ I woke up naked and freezing, Sam!" she said, "No matter how wonderful your mouth is—it doesn't make up for hypothermia!"

She had been a sight to see this morning though. All that soft, beautiful, brown skin on display for him—he hadn't been able to resist getting a taste. She drove him crazy and she knew it.

"You should have said something—I have plenty of ways to warm you up, Lady," he replied and Mercedes blushed. After all their adventures, his wife still blushed whenever he made a direct comment like that. Sam found it adorable.

"Boy, you need to _stop_!"

"Didn't hear you saying that last night either," Sam teased and Mercedes slapped his chest.

"_Sam!"_

Ignoring her light protests, he leaned forward and used his hand to move her hair out of the way. Sam started placing light kisses all along her collarbones and shoulders. He could never get enough of the little sounds she made every time he'd suck on this one spot at the junction between her neck and shoulder.

_In fact_—Sam trailed his mouth over and licked the side of her neck. He was satisfied to hear the soft hitch in her breathing—something that was made even better when she tilted her head to the side; giving him more freedom.

"We don't have time—to, uh, do this right now," Mercedes' words were a bit distracted and Sam knew he was doing his job right.

"And why not?" Sam asked in between kisses. He traveled across her chest and up the other side of her neck. Her hands slid up his arms and to his shoulders—Sam pulled her closer. He nipped at the underside of her jaw and he smiled into her skin when he heard her soft gasp.

"There's dinner to be made. I have to, _oh_, start some more laundry," Mercedes answered, "And you have to pick up Lane from his friend's house at seven, and I have a video conference with my producer at eight." Her breathing was heavier and her voice was thick with arousal—Sam laughed lightly; she wasn't fooling him.

In response to her statements, Sam sucked hard on her sweet spot and her hands clenched the fabric of his t-shirt. The sound she let out made his own arousal spike. His hands gripped her hips and using his mouth—he made a trail from her jaw to her ear.

"Sam, this really isn't—and—_oh!"_

Sam stopped her from talking by sucking on her earlobe. He tugged lightly with his teeth, before he felt her hand grip the hair on the back of his head. She forcibly pulled his head away, and Sam didn't have time to say anything, before her mouth was on his and she was kissing the shit out of him.

Her hands were all up in his hair as she moved her lips against his—it was hard but passionate and the way she bit his lip drove him fucking crazy. He inched her back towards the bed—hoping she wouldn't notice, but Mercedes felt the back of her knees hit the side of the mattress and she pulled away abruptly.

"Baby, we _can't_," she told him—she was completely breathless and Sam could see that she wanted this just as much as he did, but there really was no time. He glanced at the clock from the corner of his eye and was dismayed to realize that it was twenty minutes until seven.

Sam pouted and Mercedes laughed. "Oh, poor Sammy," she teased as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Sam rested his forehead against hers—finally giving up.

"I almost had you, too!" he said, making her smile.

"You had definitely had me," Mercedes told him—her fingers combing through the locks she had messed up not moments before. "You just got cock-blocked by life, honey."

Sam laughed and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. _His wife was so pretty_. Sam brushed a few runaway strands of hair behind her ear.

"You really have to vid-conference with your producer tonight?" he asked.

"Yes, Sam," she replied, "We need to work on some new material that I've been writing and since I won't head back into the city until next week—I need to talk to him now."

Mercedes had made it big in the music and fashion world. She'd been signed to Ahern Records almost three months after they graduated from college. Mercedes was _that_ girl—she'd graduated summa cum laude with not one, but three degrees—Fashion Design, Music Performance (Piano), and Forensic Anthropology. She'd earned a certificate in business and she did all of this while being the lead vocalist/director for the NYU competition choir.

Now, she had two platinum albums and she ran her own fashion line called _**Naturally**_, which had clothing designed for women of all sizes. She was a busy woman, but she'd made some executive shots so they could be a family.

They took up residence in Huntington, New York—located north of the Stanton Islands and it was about a two-hour commute to New York City. She only went into the city every once in awhile, because she recorded at a studio in Huntington and she designed from home. Tours were difficult, though. They both decided that the kids needed a stable environment to be in—so they would sometimes fly out to see her shows whenever they could.

Sam had gone with her on her first and second tour, but after she'd had Abigail, he stayed home when she left. They'd video chat and call every night without fail; it was hard, but they made it through.

She had her own shop in the city as well as one here. She would have to fly out to fashion shows, and her work during Fashion week was a _nightmare_, but she'd either take the whole family with her on mini-vacations or just one of the kids.

It worked out—and mostly because Quinn was her partner. Quinn was in New York City, where she and her husband lived together in a townhouse about thirty minutes from Times Square. Quinn ran the shop in New York City and Mercedes took care of the one out here.

So, yeah she was busy, but she was never truly absent.

"Fine," Sam said sadly and she kissed him again.

"You know how it is," she told him and Sam did know.

He hadn't gone for fame in music—he got lucky as a sophomore in college when he designed a comic that he posted online and it went _viral._ He had four current comic series out right now and he loved his job way too much. He had an art studio built in the house they had here, but Sam still played guitar.

He owned a small music school in Huntington where he gave guitar, piano, and drum lessons to the local kids. Mercedes would come in sometimes and give free vocal lessons—she was well-loved.

They'd chosen this city, because it had trees and areas for the kids to play outside. It was a lot safer than New York City, and the school they had in their district was a bilingual school with an excellent educational program. Mercedes had made sure of that. Sam had almost felt sorry for the schools they interviewed with—she had gone in after doing vigorous research and pretty much grilled every principal.

He thought it was worth it though.

Abigail, Lane, and Lali were fluent in Spanish. Sam was jealous of it sometimes, but he was more proud than anything. Mercedes could speak Spanish, Italian, and French—but that was because her family had done extensive traveling when she was younger.

"Okay, okay," Sam agreed, "I'll let you blue ball me this time."

Mercedes laughed, before she pulled him into another kiss. "I love you, Blondie," she told him.

"I love you too, Nala."

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><p>I hope you guys enjoyed it! Review and tell me what you thought! Until next time! :D<p> 


	2. Happy New Year

**DISCLAIMER: On first chapter. **

**I told you guys that this story wouldn't be linear! This is a chapter from Sam and Mercedes' first year of marriage! And writing this_ killed_ me. WARNING: I have an M rating for a reason-you've been warned. **

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><p><strong>December 31, 2015 (Saturday)<strong>

**Berry-Jones Abode**

**New York City, New York**

**11:21PM**

Holiday parties had never been his thing.

Sam could acknowledge this fact—and would confess it to anyone who asked him for his opinion. But he hadn't been able to get out of going to a Jones family party—especially not one thrown by Rachel Berry and her husband, Kyler.

He had to admit that this party wasn't all that bad—she had it themed like a night club and somehow Rachel had gotten black lights put all over her house. There was a full bar—serving glowing drinks and Sam had like three glow sticks on his person.

The house was packed with friends and people he considered family, but it was New Year's Eve and there was only one person that Sam wanted to be with right now. He had barely seen his wife all evening. The minute they walked through the door—she'd been swept away by Santana, Quinn, Brittany and Tina.

Rachel had apparently vanished with them, because he sometimes spotted Kyler glancing around for her.

Sam stood by the bar, swallowing down the bitter drink with a wince—he was well on his way to drunk. What was this—_his third shot?_

Alcohol was his best friend when he was both annoyed and sexually frustrated.

He was twenty-two years old, successful, and married to the love of his life. Said love of his life had been in Los Angeles for the past two months—planning out her upcoming summer tour and casting backup dancers for the show. Ahern Records was moving to New York City, but not until the next fall.

She'd flown home this afternoon and now they were here—_at Rachel and Kyler's house_ instead of their apartment. Sam had barely given her a kiss when she'd been whisked away from him by Kurt and Blaine. He had missed her so much, and Sam knew that she felt bad about not having spent any time with him today.

She was Mercedes Jones and she cared too much about everyone to say no. He both loved and hated that about her.

"Another one?" he asked gruffly—slamming the empty shot glass onto the counter. The bartender raised an eyebrow but refilled his glass.

"Rough night?" the guy asked—his tone sympathetic.

"You see the beautiful woman next to me—that's _my wife_," Sam replied.

The bartender looked confused after observing the empty barstool next to the blond.

"Uh, pal, there's no one next to you," he said slowly—his expression suggesting that he worried about Sam's sanity.

"_Exactly_," Sam said with a fake smile, before he tipped back his fourth shot. The alcohol burned as it went down. He put the empty shot glass on the counter and said, "I haven't been able to kiss my wife in _two months_—and she just got back home today. I still haven't gotten a moment alone with her."

"Well that fuckin' sucks," the bartender replied and Sam gave a derisive chuckle.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You know what sucks even more?" the guy asked as he washed a glass.

"What?" Sam questioned.

"The fact that you're sitting here sulking when you could go get your woman," he stated. Sam stared at the guy. It took some balls to tell a stranger that your situation sucked because you were being a morose douche.

"I beg your fuckin' pardon?" Sam growled—he was already pissed and now he had some dude insulting him.

"_Look_," the guy said as he sat the clean glass back down on the shelf. "Your wife has been gone for two months—her friends want to see her, but you do have the right to spend time with her as well. I suggest you give her a little reminder that you still exist and then go enjoy yourself at this party. Because in the end—it's you she's coming home to; I think you can share her with her friends during the day."

Sam pursed his lips—not wanting to admit that the guy was right, but he eventually gave the guy a grudging nod. Sam dropped a twenty on the bar to cover the bill and tip before he left the area in search of his wife.

* * *

><p>Mercedes felt like the worst wife on the face of the planet.<p>

She'd been so excited to come home and cuddle with Sam—but then Kurt and Blaine had shown up and then there was her brother and Rachel's party to go to. She'd been stupid to think that she'd be able to get her mack on and dance with Sam at this party—her girlfriends had kidnapped her as soon as she walked in.

She loved them dearly, and she enjoyed catching up with them, but she knew how much Sam had missed her—and she hoped he knew how much she'd missed him. Talking on video chat, phone calls, letters, emails—it just wasn't enough to make up for his touches or his kisses.

She escaped them momentarily by saying that she was going to the restroom—she was really going to go see if she could find Sam; he'd been by the bar when she'd last seen him almost two hours ago.

She didn't make it that far.

Mercedes felt a warm hand grab hers and she was literally yanked into the bathroom and the door slammed shut behind her. She turned on her heel—her left hand already balled into a fist.

She was going to _ruin_ the face of the motherfucker that thought he could manhandle Mercedes Jones.

She stopped immediately though when she recognized the green eyes that were boring into her.

"Sam?" she asked, bewildered. "What are you—"

Her question was cut off by Sam's mouth. The familiar feel of his soft lips on hers reignited a fire that had been quelling in the pit of her stomach for the past two months. He kissed her hard—and she responded just as intensely.

He had her squished in between the door and his body, but Mercedes didn't care. She had missed this feeling.

Sam had always been passionate—whenever they had sex, Mercedes felt almost consumed by love and heat and _desire_. She had never been able to control herself when he was like this. And Sam seemed like he was on top of his game tonight.

His hands were _everywhere_—on her hips, under her breasts, and on her thighs. She moaned into his kiss when she felt his hands slide under the hem of her red dress. Sam's touch was scorching on her skin as he gripped the back of her thighs—just below her bottom.

He broke the kiss just so he could trail open mouthed kisses along her jaw line and down her neck.

"_Jesus_, Sam," Mercedes panted—her body was on fire and his lips were doing unholy things to the sensitive skin around her collarbone.

"Do you know how much I've missed you, beautiful?" Sam asked in between kisses—she clutched at his rumpled white button down shirt when he used his teeth to drag the fabric of her dress off her shoulder. His lips returned—sucking and insistent—before he bit down softly on her shoulder.

The moan Mercedes heard herself let out would've been humiliating if Sam's head hadn't snapped up to look at her—his green eyes were burning with arousal and she could feel him hard and heavy against her hip.

"I'm getting a good idea," she replied—breathless and teasing.

A flicker of amusement flashed through his eyes and Mercedes inhaled sharply when he pressed her harder against the door—their bodies aligning and the heat and suddenness of it all made her body throb.

Her body knew this moment—it recognized the look on Sam's face. She had been privy to it for almost four years now. Mercedes almost whined when Sam removed his hands from her legs, but she froze when he leaned his forehead against hers.

Theirs gazes locked and the anticipation rose rapidly within her. She heard the click of the lock turning—the sound practically deafening in the heated silence. Sam stared her directly into her eyes—his arousal darkening his irises to a deep green.

Her breathing hitched when his hands trailed up the sides of her legs and up to her waist—and her heart stuttered in her chest when she felt him tug the tie of the wrap dress she wore. With that simple motion, her dress slackened around her and Sam shifted back less than an inch. He tugged both sides of the dress until it fell open around her and Mercedes bit her lip when she saw him rake his eyes over her figure.

She'd worn her black lace set today—wanting to surprise Sam with it later that evening—and by the look on his face, he completely approved.

His hands dropped the fabric of her dress and trailed their way up her waist and to the sides of her breasts—his hands left a trail of fire burning in their wake. Her body was a mess of hormones and neurons firing.

When Sam brushed a thumb over both of her rock-hard nipples, Mercedes groaned. He pressed himself against her again and kissed her softly—teasingly enough that Mercedes chased after his lips with each soft brush.

He stopped teasing long enough to whisper, "I'm about to fuck you, right here—_right now_, Mrs. Evans."

_Oh god_—hearing Sam swear had always turned her on, but he rarely talked about sex this frankly and _fuck all_ if it wasn't the hottest thing she'd ever experienced. He'd only been like this twice before and Mercedes_ loved_ it—she'd gotten herself off on those memories many times during those long two months away from him. She had plenty others, but those always took her breath away.

"Give me your best shot, Mr. Evans," she responded and Sam's green eyes flashed.

Her thoughts were obliterated when Sam pulled his hands away from her breasts and put them directly under her ass. Sam lifted her without even raising an eyebrow. The gasp she let out at the action surprised her, but she wasn't able to regain her bearings before Sam had walked them over to the bathroom counter and sat her down on it.

His mouth was immediately on hers and Mercedes couldn't think of anything but Sam and his lips and his tongue. Their kiss was _overwhelming_—lips moving, tongues twisting and swirling and Sam's hands were fucking all over her.

He pulled her hips closer to him and her hands found themselves twining in his hair as he sucked at her bottom lip. "_Sam_, oh, fuck—"she gasped as he started kissing down her neck again—she felt him unclasp the hook in the front of her bra.

She didn't have time to be relieved that her breasts were free because Sam's mouth was on her nipple and she couldn't _think_. His tongue was hot and rough over her sensitive skin and she would _never _get enough of his mouth.

Mercedes managed to get her hands working again as she shakily pulled Sam's tie loose and unbuttoned his dress shirt. Sam tonguing and twisting her nipples had her eyes crossing from pleasure and she couldn't stop whimpering.

Mercedes had a brief moment of achievement when she finally got Sam's shirt open, but it was taken from her when she felt Sam tugging at the sides of her underwear. She lifted her hips enough to help him pull them down her legs and then she kicked them off her foot when Sam moved over enough to give her room.

His lips were suddenly back on hers and she heard him unbuckle his belt. Sam released her lips a second later. He looked _delicious_—standing there with his dress shirt wide open, tie halfway unknotted, his pants unzipped and unbuckled. His hair was a mess of tangles and his lips were kiss swollen.

Sam's green eyes were on_ fire_ as he stared at her.

If this had been any other time in her life Mercedes would never have sex in her brother and sister-in-law's home, but there was no turning down her husband when he looked like living and breathing sex.

His chest was heaving and his abs looked even more amazing in the soft lighting—Mercedes wanted him and she wanted him_ now_. Using her legs, Mercedes wrapped them around Sam's waist and pulled him back to her—her fingers wrapping around his tie and she used it to pull his mouth back to hers.

"_Fuck all_ if you aren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Sam groaned as he pulled away to breathe for a moment. Mercedes kissed him again—their tongues tangling together. Sam tugged at her hips until she was halfway off the counter. She felt his hardness practically pulsating against her center as he ground his hips into hers.

Mercedes moaned into the kiss. She didn't care if she sounded like a wanton whore—Sam had her center on fire and her whole body was ready to go.

She heard more than saw Sam pull a condom out of his wallet. She opened her eyes when he tossed the wallet onto the counter without a single lick of concern. He bit off the corner of the foil packet. It was probably slutty of her, but she thought it was sexy as hell when Sam didn't even pull his pants down.

He just freed himself from his boxers and rolled the condom on. Before she knew it—Sam's mouth was on hers again and he kissed all coherent thought out of her brain.

When he pulled back—Mercedes' eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure and want for more—the need for more; Sam's smoldering green eyes met hers and he said, "_Don't scream."_

Her eyes widened for a moment, but she didn't have time to react more as Sam's hands tugged her hips all the way off the counter and he thrust into her in one fluid motion. His lips muffled her loud moan when he slammed his mouth against hers.

Sam fucked all thoughts of modesty right out of her head. Her back was diagonal to the counter—she was leaning back against her arms, her legs wrapped around his waist—he was practically holding her up on his own strength.

Mercedes held on for dear life as he thrust back and forth, back and forth, _back and fucking forth_—their gasps and soft moans mixing as he kissed her. The music from the party was just as loud as it had been before, but Mercedes could think of nothing but how hot Sam felt all around her and inside her.

His hands were on her hips—and she could feel dangerous energy crackling and building and creeping from the pit of her stomach and all the way up her spine with each of his thrusts. Sam was biting the shit out of his lip to keep himself quiet and Mercedes thought it was the hottest thing she'd ever seen him do.

"_Fuck_," Sam groaned and Mercedes gasped when he sped up—her whole body rocking against his. She couldn't breathe—her brain felt like it was short-circuiting. "You feel so good, Cede," he said—breathless and his voice thick.

"_Sam_," Mercedes whined—her voice broken with the effort to not scream. It was all too good—so much—_**too much**_.

Sam bent his knees more and changed his angle—stars burst behind Mercedes' eyelids and she sucked in a gasp as her whole body started shuddering.

"I want you to _lose_ it for me," he told her and Mercedes let her head fall back as white-hot pleasure raced up her spine—lighting all her organs and cells on fire in its wake. That ball of tightness crackled and grew with every movement of his hips. He slid in and out—_in and out._

Her breath quickened—there was no way she'd be able to not scream. _Oh, god._ She didn't even care. Tears were gathering at the back of her eyes—her head was spinning and her whole body was thrumming with each thrust.

It was _too much_—her chest heaved and her body shook. She was on the verge of sobbing because it felt so good.

"Let go for me baby," Sam whispered and Mercedes let out a _wrecked_ cry—her body felt like it was in flames.

His hips sped up even more—and Mercedes clutched the countertop. _Fuck_—yes, oh, _**oh**_.

"_**Sam**_**,"** she sobbed and she saw him move his hand—Mercedes watched him lick his finger and she knew what he was going to do before he did it.

The second Sam's cool fingers touched her clit—Mercedes orgasmed with a strangled howl of pleasure. She felt like a bomb had gone off inside her and her vaginal walls clenched around him tightly. That seemed to send him plummeting over the edge too.

Dots sparkled in her vision and she felt Sam lift her back onto the counter. He rested his head on her shoulder as they both trembled from aftershocks.

Mercedes didn't think she'd ever be able to move again.

Sam gathered the strength to slide out of her and he removed the condom—wrapping it in a wad of toilet paper and tossing it in the trashcan. He tucked himself away and put his arms around Mercedes' waist.

They shared tender kisses—his lips soft and loving against hers. Her fingers found their way back to his hair and she smoothed down some of the mussed strands.

Their foreheads pressed against each other, Mercedes met her husband's eyes. "I love you, Sam," she told him and Sam smiled at her.

"I love you too, Cede," he replied, before he caught her still swollen lips in another kiss. Sam helped Mercedes off the counter. And as she got dressed, he wiped down the counter with some Clorox wipes from under the sink.

Mercedes laughed at that as she fixed her bra and dress. Sam combed his hair with his fingers and then fixed his clothes. Sam grinned at Mercedes when she tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his pants—and copped a feel.

She gave him an unrepentant look.

They both looked up at the sound of fireworks popping. The loud cheers and screams from downstairs suggested that it was the New Year. Mercedes tried to feel any regret about missing the countdown, but she couldn't.

She put her arms around Sam's neck and his hands fell on her waist as he smiled down at her. The love in his eyes and the smile on his face was the best New Year's gift she could ever ask for. _And the amazing sex_—well, that was just a plus.

Their lips met for the first time in the year 2016 and it was the best thing Mercedes could ever wish for.

"Happy New Year, my love," she told him with a hum of content once their lips separated.

"Happy New Year, sweetheart."

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><p><strong>Tell me what you guys thought! Did I do their sexy times justice? Until next time! :D And yes, I'm working on the next chapter of NL. It's set out to be a doozy though, so come prepared when I do update! <strong>


	3. Old as the Dinos

**DISCLAIMER: On first chapter. **

**Just another little FAMILY!Samcedes snippet! Enjoy. :D**

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><p><strong>September 17, 2029 (Thursday)<strong>

**Evans' Home**

**Huntington, NY**

**5:43PM**

She was hiding—Sam just knew it. He tiptoed down the stairs—being extra careful to not make a sound that would give him away.

Peering around corners and sliding down the hallway—his back pressed against the wall, he searched for the mischievous five-year old that was his daughter. She had been up to no good all morning—and Sam promised to give her a good tickle for leaping on him this morning.

That had certainly been a _rude_ awakening.

Sam froze when he heard a giggle.

"Lali," he called slowly. He received a smothered giggle in return, and Sam had to bite back a smile. "I know you're down here."

Sam moved down the hallway—glancing into every room to see where his daughter could possibly be hiding. He'd been looking all over the house for her. She couldn't have gone too far—she was..._oh_, what do we have here?

Sam grinned before he dropped to his knees and started crawling across the hallway as sneakily as possible.

"Oh, Lali—_wherever_ could she be?" he sing-songed, having spotted the top of her curls sticking out from behind the curtains in the downstairs laundry room. It wasn't her usual hiding spot, so he gave her creative points.

He saw the curtains shake slightly as she giggled. Sam crawled forward and when he was close enough—he lifted himself off the ground and tiptoed over to the curtain.

"Got ya!" he yelled as he grabbed at her small frame.

Lali screamed in surprise as his fingers got her waist.

"Daddy!" she said, her voice bright with laughter. Sam chuckled when she escaped his wiggling digits and bolted from behind the curtains. Her white sundress flared as she ran out of the room—Sam hot on her heels.

"I'm gonna get you, Lali-Bug!" he said in a fake roar as he chased after her.

Curls bouncing all over the place, Lali sprinted through the house—her arms pumping at her sides and her feet moving like lightning. Sam actually had to_ try_ to keep up with her.

"You'll never catch me, daddy!" she yelled back.

"And why not, little girl?"

"Old people are slow!"

Sam made a loud sound of indignation as Lali turned sharply to the right and high-tailed it through the kitchen. He skidded behind her—the soles of his chucks making a loud squeaking sound, before he followed her into the kitchen.

She ran around the counter—peering at him with twinkling eyes from the other side of the island. Sam had to lean over to see her because she was so short.

"I can't believe you called your daddy old!"

"You_ are_ old, daddy!" Lali retorted, matter-of-factly, "You're as old as the dinosaurs!"

"Hey!" Sam replied dramatically and Lali burst into giggles. Sam moved around the counter, but Lali just ran to the other side.

"Now, you're gonna get it, munchkin!" he said causing Lali to turn on her heel and run out of the room. Sam made to follow her, but he was cut off by his daughter's scream.

Panic immediately replaced all the feelings of amusement he had and Sam sprinted out of the room. "Lali, baby, what's wro—"

He stopped short when he saw his giggling daughter hanging over her mother's shoulder—her giggles muffled by Mercedes' shirt.

"I think you let a bug escape," Mercedes said in amusement, and Sam felt his heart calm down as she pulled Lali back up and placed her on her hip.

He laughed. "Yeah, it's one of those pesky and hard to catch bugs," he joked. Lali stuck her tongue out at him, before wrapping her arms around her mother's neck.

Sam stepped forward and gave his wife a kiss. Lali's face was a grimace of disgust once they separated.

"Yucky," the five-year old declared.

Sam couldn't resist poking the girl in the side. "First, you call me as old as a dinosaur and now you're calling me yucky? No love for daddy today?"

"I love daddy all day!" Lali replied instantly.

"All day?" Sam asked and Lali nodded.

"All day—_e'eryday_!"

Lali removed her arms from around her mother's neck and she and Sam fell into their gangsta pose—chin up, arms forming an overlapping circle and using both of their hands to throw peace signs.

It had been their saying since Lali was old enough to copy Sam's pose, and all of the kids had different ones.

The words were all the same with Abby, Lane and Lali, but Abby's pose was the Vulcan hand sign for "Live Long and Prosper".

Lane's special move was a double fist bump that they blew up—complete with ridiculous explosion sound effects.

Mercedes had laughed for hours the first time he and Abigail had performed it, but it was their standard—she hadn't expected anything less nerdy from him and he loved that she simply smiled in amusement every time it happened.

_He had the best wife on the face of the planet_.

Sam smiled before he opened his arms to the five-year old. She grabbed hold immediately and Sam pulled her into his arms. He held her on his side—one arm under her bottom and her arms hanging loosely around his neck.

Mercedes shook her head in amusement. "You are such a daddy's girl, Lali-Bug," she told her daughter as she walked past them.

"_Nuh-uh!"_ Lali protested—she kicked her legs when Sam just stood there. "Daddy, go after mama!"

"You're not a daddy's girl?" Sam asked—his bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

Lali gasped in horror.

"Daddy, stick your lip in!" Lali told him—her eyes huge. "Mama says that if you pout like that—it'll get _stucked_ and then you'll really be cryin'!"

He heard Mercedes burst out laughing from the kitchen and Sam had to choke down a laugh. That was something Mercedes used often with the kids, but none of them had ever taken it so literally before.

Sam stopped pouting and Lali smiled. "Now, go after mama! I think we hurt her feelings."

"Why don't you go give her a hug and a kiss, while I tell your brother and sister that they need to start on homework?" Sam said and Lali nodded. He sat her down on the floor and he watched her run over to the kitchen.

With a shake of his head, Sam walked over to the stairs and double-stepped all the way up to the top. He poked his head into Lane's room first. Sam eyed the mess all over the floor dubiously, but he saw his son laying on his bed—reading one of Sam's old Batman comics.

"Lane," he called and his son sat up and looked at him. Lane had a very strange tapestry of genes—he seemed to have inherited his father's hair texture, but Mercedes' color. Lane had a soft mocha complexion and his hair fell to the top of his ears—sweeping across his forehead.

"Hey dad," Lane replied with a half smile that was all Sam—even he could admit that he'd gotten that straight from him.

His eleven-year old son had green eyes. Lali and Lane apparently took after him in more ways than he'd first considered.

Sam wasn't looking forward to his son reaching puberty—they had enough of these little pre-teen girls giggling around him and calling the house already. His little girls were both stunning—and crap, _why did he have cute kids again?_

He blamed his wife.

"It's time to put the comics away, bud," Sam said, "Homework time."

Lane didn't look happy about it, but he didn't argue as he dropped the unfinished comic on the night stand next to his bed and crawled off.

"Are you still having trouble with your English homework?" Sam asked and Lane looked away in embarrassment.

Lane wasn't dyslexic, but writing wasn't his strong suit—and he had two essays due at the end of next week; one for history and one for English. He was a mathematical genius though—by the time he was in the third grade, Lane had been doing eighth grade math.

"Yeah," Lane admitted, "It's not coming out too well."

"Did you ask Abby for help?" Sam questioned and Lane gave an irritated eye-roll.

"Yes," Lane replied, "And she told me no. She's not gonna help me, dad."

"Well ask your mom after dinner tonight," he responded with a sigh, "I'll talk to Abby about it."

Sam still felt awful though. He'd made leaps and bounds since high school, but he still wasn't the best. It made him mad that his kid needed help and he couldn't do anything about it.

"You know I would help you if I—"Sam started, but Lane cut him off.

"Dad, _I know_," his son said with a grin, "No one is mad at you for being bad at one thing."

Sam nodded his head, before he left his son to his work. Now was the hard part.

Abigail was still an emotional wreck since her grounding two weeks earlier. She had barely said a word to any of them since the punishment had been doled out, but she wasn't mean—she was just quiet.

Sam was positive that she was riding a guilt trip like no other, but Mercedes had convinced herself that Abby hated her and would never speak to her again. He wasn't happy that she'd cried more than once over it all.

Sam knocked on Abby's closed door and he got a quiet "Come in." in response. He opened the door and stuck his head inside.

She was sitting on her bed—reading a book.

"Abigail, it's time for homework," he told her and she nodded silently.

"Okay, dad," she replied. There was an awkward silence before Sam turned around to walk out of the room—he was stopped by the sound of her calling out to him again. "Daddy?"

Sam turned around to look at her. She was biting her bottom lip—her eyes covered in a sheen of fresh tears and her hands were twisting in the sleeves of her gray cardigan.

"Do you hate me?" she asked, her voice breaking. Sam's heart almost stopped in his chest.

"_What?"_ he asked, bewildered and horrified all at once. "Why would you possibly think that?"

Sam strode over to her when she started crying. He sat down on the edge of her bed and Abby practically crawled into his side. He wrapped her up tight—rubbing her back and placing kisses on the top of her curls.

"I've been so _mean_," she cried, "And you and mama were so mad at me—I just—_I'm so sorry."_

"Abby-Doll," Sam said, "We can love you and get upset with you at the same time. Don't you _**ever**_ think that me or your mother will stop loving you because you do something wrong."

"I know, but daddy, I was _awful_—I can't believe that I slammed the door in mama's face," Abigail confessed, "I don't know what was wrong with me. I just wanted to be popular at school."

And this was a lesson Sam had learned the hard way—one his daughter apparently needed to be schooled about.

"Abby-doll, listen to me," Sam said, "Popularity will _never _make you happy. You make more friends by being yourself than by being seen as untouchable. It isn't worth your time to convince someone else that you're worthy of their friendship. I know that you're probably going to ignore what I'm telling you—I did the same when my father told me, but I've been where you are and popularity doesn't mean anything when you're hurting. That's when your real friends start showing themselves."

Abigail didn't seem to completely comprehend what he was telling her, but she promised to take it into consideration.

"I love you, Abby-doll," he said, before he kissed his daughter's forehead. "But it isn't me who you need to apologize to."

"I love you too, dad," she replied, "And I know."

Sam left his daughter's room as she started doing homework and he wandered back downstairs.

When he walked into the kitchen, Lali was sitting on a barstool—coloring and Mercedes was chopping bell peppers on a cutting board.

Sam saw the package of frozen fish thawing in the sink—being warmed up by a steady stream of hot water from the faucet. There was also a bag of pasta on the counter. Sam walked towards his wife after dropping a kiss onto the back of Lali's head—when he reached his wife's side, he placed his hands on her hips and pressed her against the counter.

Mercedes gave him a stern look over her shoulder.

"No frisky business in front of the children!" she reminded him as he placed a kiss on the back of her clothed shoulder.

"I can't hold my beautiful wife in a completely _innocent_ manner?" he asked.

"It would be innocent if your hands weren't drifting lower and lower by the second," she replied in amusement.

Sam chuckled and he moved his hands back up to the safe zone on her hips. "I just had a very _interesting_ conversation with Abigail," he told her and Mercedes stopped chopping to look back at him.

"_And?"_ she asked.

"And she's feels awful," Sam replied, "I told you that she doesn't hate you."

"Yeah, yeah," Mercedes responded, "Rub it in!"

"You love me," Sam said as she turned around to face him.

Mercedes gave him a sassy look and Sam touched his forehead to hers. "_What?_ No love for daddy today?"

"I love daddy all day," Mercedes joked as she slid her hands up Sam's chest. Her fingers moved up his neck until they reached the junction between his neck and his jaw. Sam smiled when her thumbs stroked his jaw line.

"All day?" he asked as he lightly kissed his way across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. When he got to her ear—he kissed the stud earring in her lobe. Mercedes giggled.

"_All day—everyday_," she replied. Mercedes pulled one of her hands away and Sam's rose to meet hers. Folding back three of her fingers with the exception of her middle finger and pointer finger, Mercedes met Sam's hand between them—his own digits an exact replica of hers.

They pressed the tips of their fingers together in a Vulcan kiss, before Sam captured his wife's lips in a real kiss.

He loved her too—all day, every day.

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><p><strong>Sam's nerd shows itself in this chapter-but did anyone expect anything different? REVIEW! I love hearing what you guys thought! :D Until next time, guys!<strong>


	4. Midterms

**DISCLAIMER: On first chapter.**

**Yeah, I'm dead. Writing this was-Lawd, I'm going to bed now. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>October 12, 2013 (Wednesday)<strong>

**New York University—Graphic Design Dormitory**

**Greenwich, New York**

**10:47PM**

Papers were everywhere.

Incomplete sketches for a new website template and crumpled comic designs had taken over his desk.

Graphite pencils and ink stains were scattered all over his table top and Sam was about to lose his mind. He had three midterms tomorrow.

There was a huge project due in his Website Design class and his partner had dropped without telling Sam—so now he had to complete the entire thing by himself—in less than twenty-four hours.

He had a math exam the next afternoon—and he'd been studying the material for the last month, but he still felt like he didn't know it well enough. And his other two tests—one was his history class and an exam in his Adobe Photoshop III course. Sam was pissed off about that class—he could work Photoshop like a pro, but his teacher had to be the type of asshole who asked about the most complicated sequences possible.

He didn't even want to think about the fifteen-page paper that was due in his Religions course on Friday. And he had a midterm in his HTML class on Saturday morning—not to mention the basketball training he had Saturday afternoon.

He was still sore from his soccer game yesterday.

The life of a collegiate athlete was nothing like Sam expected—but at the same time it was. He had practice every day of the week—but now it would be doubled because basketball started up in November and soccer season was coming to an end.

He loved his majors—Graphic Design and Music Performance were two of his favorite things, but it was hell trying to maintain his GPA with practice and games. He had a job, but he was his own employee—his comics had gotten published in early August and Sam was getting paid to make those.

The fact that people loved them so much made him happy. It just sucked because he hadn't seen Mercedes all week. She had three majors and was more often than not buried in her books too.

She had competition choir rehearsals four days a week—on top of her personal time spent writing and recording music in the studios on campus.

Because of her—Sam had managed to keep a 3.89 GPA, but that might not continue if he couldn't get his crap together tonight.

Sam glanced at the mess that was his desk—books, papers, and study guides were everywhere. His laptop had like twelve tabs open—switching between history practice tests, his Religions essay that he was still editing even though he'd finished it last week, his optional online extra credit for math, the notepad doc for his website design, and facebook.

Everything was a mess and he was ready to quit.

Sam dropped his head down onto his Adobe textbook and groaned. Mercedes would be mad, but he was dropping out. All of this wasn't worth his time.

Sam was contemplating how satisfying life would be if he didn't give a fuck when there was a knock at his bedroom door.

The one good thing about NYU was that the dorms were legit. He had an apartment style room—one that he shared with three other guys. There was a large living space in the middle, a kitchen, a washer and dryer, and they each got separate bedrooms with a bathroom. It was really nice.

There was another knock at the door and Sam sighed.

"Come in!" he called out—not even bothering to get up from his seat. It was probably Brandon—one of his roommates. He always had random questions to ask Sam at the strangest times.

Sam heard the door open. "I guess you are busy." When he heard the voice—Sam almost fell out of his chair in surprise. He gaped at his girlfriend—who laughed at his expression.

"Cede," he said, "What are you doing here?"

"I can leave if you'd like," she said, her eyebrows raised and Sam immediately stood.

"_No!"_ he replied, "I just—wasn't expecting to see you." Sam started to walk over to her, but she waved him off as she dropped her backpack on the ground by her feet.

"Sit, Txe'lan," she told him, before she closed the door behind her. His eyebrows went up when she locked it.

"What's going on?" he asked slowly as she walked over to him. Mercedes didn't answer, but she did pull his mouth down to hers. They kissed softly and Sam realized that he had missed her lips quite a bit over the past week.

"I've barely seen you in the past six days," she said—pulling back from him. "And studying for midterms is _kicking my ass_."

Sam chuckled at the dismayed look on her face. "I know how you feel, sweetheart," Sam said—his tone dry. She laughed as she peered around him to glance at the mess that was his desk.

"Long week?" she asked—her fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"The longest," he replied, "I'm sore from my game and practice. My partner dropped the class and didn't tell me so now I have to finish his part tonight."

"Yeah, you know those cluster fucks that they call exams?" Mercedes sassed, "I have one in every class tomorrow."

Sam winced in sympathy. "So, what brought you over to my dorm?"

"I've been studying with Quinn and Rachel for the past month, and I honestly can't handle anymore estrogen," Mercedes said, "I'm so stressed out and I haven't been able to see you in awhile—and I just really wanted to be with you."

Mercedes did look tired. Her hair was down and she wore this purple sweater dress that looked amazing with her caramel brown suede boots and knee-high polka dotted socks. There were slight bags forming under her eyes and Sam couldn't quite swallow his worry.

"How about we take a break," Sam suggested. She looked on the verge of protest, but Sam shot her a look. "We can relax for an hour—and then we can study together for the rest of the night. There's a 24-hour Starbucks around the corner from this building. Maybe I'll figure out a way to organize my stuff so I actually get shit done."

Mercedes laughed at his comment, but she leaned into his chest and Sam took the time to wrap her up tight. He worried about her. Mercedes was a determined woman, but twenty-three credit hours would take its toll on anyone. She had a 4.0 GPA for a reason, but sometimes he wished that she'd relax more.

She was such an amazing person—but she was human and he knew for a fact that sometimes people seemed to forget that about her.

Sam coaxed her into laying down on his bed while he went to grab some bottled water from the kitchen. He made it back to his room without encountering any of his roommates. "How'd you get inside anyway?" Sam asked as he closed and locked the door behind himself.

Mercedes was sitting on his bed—her back against the headboard with pillows cushioning her lower back. She had kicked off her boots and socks. He was momentarily taken aback by how pretty she was.

"Josh was on his way out for the night when I showed up," she answered as Sam stared at her. "He just let me in."

She pulled off the oriental scarf around her neck and tossed it on Sam's bedside table before she finally noticed him staring.

"What?" she asked—her tone wary and Sam snapped out of it.

He placed both bottles on his dresser, before he walked over to the bed and crawled across the mattress to her. She looked a bit surprised when Sam straddled her legs, but she responded when he kissed her. Sam felt her hands cup his face as their lips meshed together.

"Sam?" she asked once he pulled away.

"You're just really_ pretty_," he told her—placing another kiss on her lips when she smiled. "I still can't believe that you're with me."

"Are you trying to get laid?" she joked—their lips brushing as her fingers trailed across his cheek and down to his jaw.

"No," Sam answered with a grin.

"Oh," she replied, kissing him again, "because if you were—it _might _have been working."

"Only might have been?" Sam teased and Mercedes laughed. Sam leaned back and moved away—tugging her hips downward so she fell back against the mattress. Mercedes spread her legs—allowing Sam's hips to settle between them as he leaned over her again.

They continued kissing softly, leisurely. There was no rush.

"We haven't had sex since last week," Mercedes cracked, "Of course it almost worked!"

"I forgot that you're a sex fiend," Sam replied and Mercedes wrapped her arms around his neck.

"This is your fault," Mercedes said—her brown eyes sparkling as Sam kissed his way from her mouth and across to her ear. "You're the one that fucked me silly when I was an innocent eighteen-year old."

"Hmm," Sam said as he tugged lightly at her earlobe with his teeth. "I haven't heard you complaining."

"Nope," Mercedes retorted—her breath hitching as Sam kissed his way down to her shoulder. "But my roommates sure do."

Sam laughed into her skin—causing Mercedes to giggle at the tickling sensation. "They're just jealous that you get hot, nerdy sex every week."

"Sexual frustration is the cruelest thing on the face of the planet," Mercedes told him. Sam definitely agreed with that statement. He nodded, before he kissed her on the lips again.

When Sam pulled away, Mercedes' eyes were smoldering. "So you gonna fix that problem for me?"

"Don't we have to study?" Sam joked, but he stopped when his girlfriend wrapped her legs around his waist and used his hips as leverage to thrust upward against him.

His eyes crossed at the contact and Mercedes laughed. He shut her up real quick though when he thrust his hips hard against her. She bit her lip and Sam grinned.

"I guess I'm about to get another lesson in anatomy," he told her, before slithering down her body.

"I'll tell you your grade at the end of this exam," she said and Sam smirked.

"I hope I get an A, Professor Jones," he said when his face was level with her hips. He could smell her arousal already—heady and sensual. Sam took his time—pushing up the bottom of her dress and admiring the way her white cotton boy shorts conformed to her figure.

Sam placed a kiss at her crotch—unsurprised to feel the dampness there. She let out this sexy little sound that had Sam more than ready to get started. He licked across the cotton—applying slight pressure to the area where her clitoris was and Mercedes groaned.

"I don't have patience for silly antics, Mr. Evans," she said and Sam pressed his lips against her and blew lightly. Mercedes sucked in a breath at the sensation.

"I promise to do my best, Professor," he told her—his mouth close enough to her opening that she could feel every brush of his lips as he spoke. Mercedes squirmed under his hands.

He loved teasing her and she knew it.

Sam placed soft kisses along her clothed slit as he tapped her thighs—Mercedes followed the unspoken instruction as she bent her knees; allowing Sam's arm to slide under her legs. He used his hands to spread her legs apart farther and also hold her hips in place.

She whimpered at his slight touches—his fingers caressing the sensitive skin between her inner thigh and her labia; the pads of his fingers sliding just under the edges of her underwear. Sam licked up and down—Mercedes' hips twitched. He could tell that she wanted a lot more contact than he was giving her.

But he hadn't gone down on his lady in awhile now—they just hadn't had time for more than some hot and rough sex, before they had to get back to their studying. It made him sad that he'd only been able to take her on four or five dates this month. He wasn't going to let her go this time without making her remember how much he loved her.

Using his mouth to please Mercedes was one of Sam's favorite things to do. And even though they didn't have time for what they called, "Slow Burn and Bombastic Sex" tonight—they were going to do it anyway.

Just this once—school could wait.

It wouldn't make up for the time they hadn't been able to see each other, but it would remind them why they were worth the wait.

Sam mouthed the fabric—being sure to suckle her slightly each time he reached her clit. Mercedes' hips were moving under his hands and she let out a frustrated moan.

"Mr. Evans," she rebuked, "You're playing with me and I don't like it."

"Sorry, Professor," Sam said—his tone unrepentant. "I just got carried away. I'll fix my behavior immediately."

"Good," Mercedes replied—her tone sharp, "I expect nothing less."

And Sam fixed his behavior alright.

He pressed a hard kiss to her and she moaned at the sudden pressure. With a quick movement, Sam slid his fingers under the hem of her panties and tugged them down her hips until Mercedes lifted lower body off the mattress. Sam helped her pull them off before he settled himself between her legs again.

She was so ready for him and Sam practically salivated just looking at her.

"Get your work done, Mr. Evans," she ordered—Sam could hear the desire and anticipation in her voice. He fucking loved it.

"Yes ma'am," he said, before using his tongue to lick a solid stripe from the bottom of her slit to the top. Mercedes gasped when he circled her clit and pressed a kiss to the nub. He loved doing this to his girlfriend.

Sometimes he tried shapes, but Mercedes' favorite was when he traced the alphabet across her folds. She'd only made it to Z once before. It was an ongoing game they played to see how long she lasted—the first time he did the alphabet she'd only made it until G and he'd never felt so smug.

Her moans increased as he went through each letter. She was really feeling it by _J_—her hips were undulating and she started gasping.

Sam tightened his grip on her thighs as he traced _K, L, M, N_—and he took great pleasure in tracing the _O_ directly onto her clit.

He knew she was almost there when she buried her hands in his hair—_R, S, T._ Mercedes' hips bucked and Sam moved with her—_U_. He wanted her to lose control—_V_—and the sounds she was making had his body gearing up for action.

He'd never wanted to be inside her more, but he was going to make her scream first—_W._

When he traced the _X_—Mercedes' whole body tensed and her back arched off the mattress. He had to restrain the smirk that wanted to spread across his face as she shuddered and gasped her way through the aftershocks.

Sam placed gentle kisses along her lower lips—gently easing her through it. He only stopped when Mercedes tugged on his hair. He crawled his way back up her body and wasn't surprised when she pulled his lips down to hers.

* * *

><p>She had the best boyfriend in the entire fucking world, Mercedes decided as she came down from her high. With a tug of Sam's mussed blond hair, he lifted himself from between her legs and crawled his way back up her body.<p>

And damn if that wasn't sexy as hell.

His lips were red and slightly swollen. He had this confident smirk on his face that was too attractive for her to handle. And the red and blue horizontal-striped shirt he was wearing hugged his chest and biceps as he leaned over her again.

He settled on top of her—the weight of his body was comforting against hers. She didn't imagine the warm weight pressing against her leg as she pulled his sweet mouth down to hers and twisted their tongues together in a heated kiss.

They both groaned into the kiss—Mercedes' hands gripping Sam's hair when she tasted herself on his lips. She pulled back after a few moments and Sam laid open-mouthed kisses all the way down her neck.

"Mr. Evans," she said—letting out a small gasp when Sam nipped his way across her collarbone while using one hand to unbutton her dress. "You seem to have passed the first part of the exam with a _satisfactory_."

Sam paused in undressing her and gave her the stink-eye. He still looked sexy—his green eyes dark with lust and his lips were lush and bright red. "A _satisfactory,_ Professor?" he asked, "That was worth an outstanding score!"

"I don't give an A to every student that knows how to sing the alphabet song, Mr. Evans," Mercedes replied, "You're going to have to show me that you can put all of the theory into practice."

Sam narrowed his eyes at her as he finished unbuttoning her dress. He slid his way back up her body and fastened his lips to hers in a rough kiss.

Sam's tongue plundered Mercedes' mouth and she couldn't contain herself. He pulled away—only to place his mouth next to her ear.

"When I'm done with you, Professor Jones," Sam told her—his voice a growl that had Mercedes' nipples hardening in anticipation. "You're going to give me a fucking A+."

Her eyes widened, but she met his stare directly. "Give me your best shot."

Mercedes was pulled into a kiss and her eyes snapped closed as their mouths moved together—nipping, _sucking_, licking. Sam moved back onto his knees and Mercedes followed him—shifting until she was on her knees too.

Their mouths barely broke apart for air as their kisses grew more intense, more _desperate_.

One of Sam's hands was in her hair and the other was swiftly divulging Mercedes of her dress.

She slid her hands under the hem of Sam's polo and tugged it over his head—reluctantly breaking the kiss to get it off of his body.

She panted for air as she let her eyes drift down his form—loving his chest, arms, and stomach—fuck; _he was so sexy_. The bulge in his jeans wasn't helping the tightening of her groin.

She wanted Sam and she wanted him _now._

Taking him by surprise, Mercedes grabbed his arm and tugged him into her previous position. Mercedes straddled his prone form and reattached her mouth to his. They traded kisses—hot, heavy, and sensual until Sam's hips were pressing up into her.

She moved back—sitting on his hips and gave him a slow smile.

"I think it's time for your Professor to teach you another lesson, Mr. Evans," she whispered—naughty feelings making her smile turn mischievous. Sam raised an eyebrow at her as she unclasped her matching white bra.

His eyes darkened at the sight of her and Mercedes felt a surge of confidence like no other. She loved making Sam stare—it was a powerful and heady feeling. And she would make sure he'd enjoy it—every second of it.

With nimble fingers, she unbuckled his belt—making sure to never take her eyes away from his until she absolutely had to. Sam groaned when she finally unzipped his pants and he looked relieved when she pulled the pants off his legs and took his boxers along for the ride.

He was_** ready**_, alright.

"Poor baby," she muttered as she crawled back onto the bed. Sam was harder than she'd ever seen him—the tip red and slick; and she still wasn't used to the feeling of him throbbing in her hand when she wrapped her fingers around him.

Sam's breathing hitched at the contact and his head dropped back onto the pillows. Her boyfriend was a sight to see when naked—and she would never get tired of it.

Mercedes leaned down—making sure Sam had a direct view of her breasts—and she blew across the head. Sam _groaned_—his voice was low and deep and it threatened to set Mercedes on fire.

So, she pressed her lips against the base of his cock and tongued her way up to the tip—Sam's hands clenched in the sheets and she could see his abs contract in an attempt to control himself.

_Such a gentleman_, Mercedes thought, but there was no time for that.

Without another thought, Mercedes swept her tongue around the head of Sam's penis and then sunk down on him. Before she knew what was happening—his hand was in her hair and when she glanced up at him—he was biting the shit out of his lip.

She sucked and licked and _blew_ Sam until he was a mess of tense muscles, low groans, and his mouth was swollen from biting the crap out of his lips—a misguided effort to keep it together because she wanted him to lose control.

"_Fuck_, Cede," he cussed after Mercedes slid almost all the way down his shaft and then sucked her way back up. That was her cue.

With a smirk on her face, Mercedes removed her mouth from him and crawled up his body.

She reached into his bedside table with knowing fingers—pulling a condom from the box he had shoved in the back corner of the drawer. She tore off the corner of the foil packet—being sure to stroke him a couple of times before she rolled the condom on.

Mercedes leaned down—still straddling Sam—and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. His eyes opened and she smiled when she saw the desire burning in his green irises. "Are you ready for me,_ Txe'lan_?"

"Always, Nala," he replied—his voice was gruff as hell and Mercedes felt her stomach tighten in arousal. Hearing Sam's voice torn apart by pleasure always had her prepared to jump him.

Without another word, Mercedes dropped her hips—Sam filling her body made her bite her lip in ecstasy. The pleasant stretch she felt was so _good_—so familiar and so arousing. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her when she felt his hands trail up her sides and then cup her breasts.

He felt like molten heat inside her and Mercedes was on fire. She moved her hips and Sam groaned when she established a rhythm that had her panting in minutes. Sam, _Sam_, **Sam**—she couldn't think of anything better than being with him, being in this moment with him right now.

She was over stimulated —they both were. She wasn't going to last long and neither was Sam.

Their moans, groans, and gasps mixed as they traded sloppy kisses—whispering, "I love you" and "I love you so much" in between. It only took a few more thrusts before Mercedes exploded and Sam followed her right over the edge.

She collapsed onto his chest with a satisfied moan. Sam's fingers ran through her hair and she moved so she was lying by his side. Mercedes pulled Sam's covers over her body as Sam got up and got rid of the condom before he moved back into bed with her.

She snuggled into his side as soon as he was under the blanket—placing her chin on his chest as he folded an arm under his head and traced circles on her back with his free hand.

"Did I pass?" Sam asked—his voice rough and Mercedes scooted forward to place a kiss on his mouth.

"You've always had an A, my love," she told him. "I just like getting the best out of you."

Sam laughed. "I didn't even get a chance to fuck you into the mattress," he replied in amusement. "You kind of stole my thunder."

Mercedes grinned in reply. "I guess we'll have to retest some other day," she answered, "I needed to school you on how it's done."

"Why you little—"Sam cried in pretend outrage as he flipped them over. Mercedes couldn't stop laughing when he tickled her bare sides. They ended up kissing again, but they kept them soft and loving.

Sam buried his face in her shoulder and Mercedes wrapped her arms around his neck—her fingers threading through his hair. She enjoyed cuddling with Sam—she felt so connected to him in these moments.

It was almost as good as the sex they had, but somehow _better_ because she was touching all of him—they were both together and she would never get enough of lounging naked in bed with Sam.

"You know we still have to study, right?" she asked as soon as she felt him start dozing off.

The cussing that started had her laughing for the next ten minutes, but Mercedes did force a grumbling Sam out of bed—and yeah, they definitely did study all night long; despite Sam's attempts to distract her.

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><p><strong>REVIEW! I love hearing your thoughts! Until next time! :D<strong>


	5. For You, I Give Thanks

**DISCLAIMER: On first chapter.**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I suggest listening to "Human Nature" on repeat while reading it, but that's just me. :D**

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><p><strong>November 22, 2029 (Thursday)<strong>

**Evans' Home**

**Huntington, NY**

**11:36PM**

She had never been more grateful that the kids had been kidnapped by her parents. Lali, Abby and Lane had all been way too excited to spend the night with their cousins and grandma and gramps. She was a bit worried that her parents would be overrun by all fifteen of their grandchildren, but she'd been assured that they could handle anything.

The fact that they'd rented a house for the weekend suddenly made more sense. Thanksgiving at the Evans' household had been a rousing success, but she was exhausted.

Mercedes rolled her shoulders and stretched in an attempt to relax the tenseness of her muscles. Time with her family was wonderful and she'd never change it for the world, but it took a lot of energy to get through all of their craziness. Sam's family being involved in the whole process didn't exactly help with the amount of ridiculousness that had gone on.

She lifted the final stack of dishes off the counter—all of them fresh from the dishwasher, and put them into the cabinet on their correct shelves. Mercedes closed the cabinet door before she felt a pair of warm hands fall on her bare shoulders—the tips of his fingers calloused from years of guitar playing.

She smiled when he rubbed her back gently and placed a kiss on her arm, before moving closer to her. His chest pressed solidly against her back as he wrapped her in his arms and Mercedes couldn't help but relax into the embrace.

"Hello beautiful," he whispered in her ear and Mercedes laughed softly when his breath tickled her ear.

"Hi Sam," she replied and he nuzzled his face into her neck—nosing her curls out of the way, so he could place a kiss at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Almost reflexively, her arm lifted and she threaded her fingers through the blond hair on the back of his head as he kissed his way up to her ear.

"I've missed you," he told her and she turned her head to meet his eyes.

"We've been together all day," she replied, "Or did you forget?"

"I don't count that as being together," Sam responded, "There were like thirty other people over here—the only time I could even touch you was when we were at dinner, but then Quinn was hoggin' you."

Mercedes chuckled when Sam stuck his lip out in a pout. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his mouth. He tightened his arms around her and she tugged lightly at his hair before Sam pulled away.

"I want to show you something," he said and she blinked at him. Sam seemed amused by her bemused and slightly put-out expression, because he pecked her lips again before disentangling himself from her.

"Show me what?" she asked—what happened to the almost make out session they had just started?

"Just come with me," he replied and Mercedes sighed in slight exasperation. Sam grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers together and tugged her out of the room. He kept glancing back at her over his shoulder and Mercedes laughed at the excitement she could see bubbling in his eyes.

Why was her husband so adorable?

Sam led her into the living room and made her sit down on the couch. She did as asked, but she still had no idea what was going on here. She watched him tinker around with the stereo system and he dimmed the lights in the room—a satisfied grin stretching across his lips.

* * *

><p>Sam was meticulous when he set the dimmer—being sure that it was at the perfect lighting, before stepping away from the wall and glancing over at his wife. His breath caught for a moment.<p>

Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly, and Sam could tell that she was trying to puzzle out what the heck he was doing. She just looked so pretty in the soft lighting—her dark brown curls tumbling over her bare shoulders. The lights gave her curls a golden halo that contrasted beautifully with the coral dress she was wearing.

It had a halter top with a keyhole in the front. The material was a soft cotton and she'd used a braided gold belt to accentuate her curves. Sam thought she looked incredible. He walked over to her, and the closer he got—the higher her eyebrows went.

Sam knelt in front of her and Mercedes gave him an amused smile—her brown eyes faintly dancing.

"You can't propose," she said in amusement—wiggling her ring finger in his direction, "I'm still quite in love with the man I married."

Sam laughed at her antics before placing his hands on her knees. He traced the soft skin of her legs from the back of her knees and down her calves. Sam used one hand to lift her leg and maneuvered her foot into his lap. Being extra gentle, he tugged off her cork wedge off her foot before repeating the action with her other leg.

Shoes now off; Sam ran his hands all the way up her legs. He stood on his knees and moved himself closer to her—Mercedes automatically spreading her legs to accommodate him as his hands brushed along her thighs; shoving the soft material up to her hips.

Sam's green eyes met her brown ones—the expression in them tinged with confusion, love, and a healthy dose of desire. Without a word, his hands on the tops of her now bare thighs, Sam pressed his mouth against hers in a soft kiss.

He rested his forehead against hers when her hands cupped his jaw. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" she asked softly, her brown eyes twinkling. "Because I assure you've that I'm very familiar with this."

Sam let out a quiet laugh. He pressed another kiss to her lips, but shook his head. "No," he said—reluctantly moving his hands from her soft skin and standing up. "I'm about to reveal the real surprise."

Mercedes didn't seem to appreciate the sudden distance between them, but her curiosity got the better of her as he picked up the remote control for the stereo system. "Do you remember in high school—when we were picking songs for our Regionals set list?"

His wife's brow furrowed slightly and she scrunched her nose in confusion. He had to bite back a grin, because she looked so cute. "Well, yeah—we did that multiple times—"

"No, I mean during senior year," he responded, "When the Warblers were trying to take our Michael Jackson theme?"

She nodded and he smiled. "Of course I remember," She replied, "Blaine had to have surgery because of that douche Sebastian."

He snorted at the angry undertone in her voice, but that wasn't his point. "Well," Sam said slowly, "Do you remember the duet we sang?"

"Human Nature," she replied, "It was one of my favorite performances."

"Yeah," Sam said, "Well, I think you'll like this."

Mercedes blinked at him and Sam took his time in pressing play on the remote. When the familiar chords of their acoustic version of Human Nature began drifting out of the speakers, Mercedes' jaw dropped.

"What—but how?"

"Mr. Schue has a recording of all the Glee songs that we've sung," Sam told her as he put down the remote. "And I was hoping he'd have this one—I lucked out."

Mercedes still looked overwhelmed as he made his way over to her. She stared up at him as he came to a stop in front of her. With a smile on his face, Sam stretched a hand out to her. "Mercedes, I just wanted to say that you look beautiful tonight."

He saw the recognition flare in her across her face. Sam knew she'd remember. Neither of them could ever forget junior prom—it was the day he'd first realized how incredibly beautiful and important she was to him. "Would you like to dance?" he asked—his voice soft.

Her brown eyes filled with tears and she shook her head lightly—a light laugh escaping her as she placed her hand in his. "I'd love to," she replied. Sam grinned as he stretched out his other hand and pulled her off the couch.

Mercedes' dress fell back down to her knees as he pulled her into his arms. He led her to the center of the living room—the look on her face both loving and amused. Sam tugged her close to his body, lifting their entwined hands above his head. He placed her hands on his shoulders, before letting go.

Sam reached out and tugged her closer by the hips until Mercedes was pressed completely against him. His arms around her waist, Sam rested his forehead against hers as they started dancing—him just staring into her brown eyes.

He'd never get enough of her. Every time he looked into those eyes, her intelligence and beauty shone like the sun. He loved trying to figure out what she was thinking or feeling or daydreaming about. Mercedes Jones was a huge part of his everything.

Her fingers played with the strands of hair on the back of his neck and he smiled down at her as they swayed their way across the living room floor. Sam traced his fingers up and down her sides; smiling when she moved closer to him.

"I know you're a romantic at heart," she whispered, their gaze still connected, "But you don't usually do something like this out of the blue."

Sam wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Maybe I wanna get some," he said and she wrinkled her nose at him.

"You would've gotten some if you kept up the kisses in the kitchen," Mercedes replied in amusement. Sam laughed at her blunt statement. "That doesn't explain the wooing I'm getting right now."

He placed a kiss on her lips—just because he wanted to and she lightly massaged the back of his neck. When he pulled away, Sam stopped them mid-dance.

"You're right," he told her, "there is a reason for this." He moved his hands back down to her waist and squeezed lightly. Mercedes stared up at him, her curious brown eyes peeking from beneath her lashes.

He just stared at her, momentarily taken aback by how beautiful she was and she laughed softly before moving her hands to cup both sides of his jaw.

"Are you gonna tell me or what?" she asked—a hint of concern in her voice.

"It's Thanksgiving," Sam said finally and she looked a bit surprised. She opened her mouth to say something, but Sam just squeezed her waist gently, and she stopped herself. "It's Thanksgiving and Lord knows that I've got everything to be grateful for."

"I was blessed with an education, my dream job, no debts, and my family is happy and whole," Sam told her, "I came from a time when I didn't know when my next meal would be, and I gained a whole family after my mother walked out on us. I've been blessed with real friends, and three beautiful children that I couldn't love more if I tried."

Sam's voice was thick. The emotions he could feel were strong, but he'd never truly sat down and thought about how blessed he was. He had everything he could have ever wanted and more. Mercedes didn't quite know what was going on, but her brown eyes were covered by a sheen of tears.

"I have happiness and health and love in my life—in every place that I could possibly need it," Sam said, "I was a kid who lived in a hotel for almost five months and here I am—in my own house that's paid in full, and my entire family is successful."

"I thought I'd lost everything important," he said as her thumb brushed gently across his cheek. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears gathering in his eyes. "I'd practically convinced myself that I would never be worth anything, and a life of poverty was the only thing I'd get."

"Sam—"

"Shhh, babe," he said quietly as the tears spilled over Mercedes' eyelids and trailed down her cheek. "Just let me say this, okay?"

She gave him a shaky smile and a single nod. Sam swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in his throat.

"My life was in tatters," he said, "And then you came along with more sass than Fran Drescher."

Mercedes let out a huff of laughter and Sam smiled—tears brimmed his bottom eyelids; threatening to fall at any moment. "You made me believe that I was worth something. You refused to let me give up on myself, because you thought I was talented and smart; the fact that you believed in me _as I was_—you changed everything for me."

He couldn't hold the tears back any longer, and Mercedes was trying her best to not to bawl. "I fell in love with you because you fought for me. You fought with my insecurity to show me that I could be somebody; that I could do anything that I wanted to do. I've never met someone willing to do that. Mercedes, God gave me everything when he brought you into my world. He taught me the true meaning of love when you became my friend."

"It has been and will forever be an honor to call you my best friend and my wife," Sam said—his voice raspy with emotion. Mercedes was full out crying, but he could see the love and joy on her face—in her eyes, and in the smile she was giving him. "And since it's Thanksgiving," Sam told her as she brushed the tears off his face with the tips of her fingers, "I thought it only appropriate to thank God for everything that he's given me and I figured you'd like to hear exactly why."

Mercedes let out a choked laugh. "I love you, Mercedes Evans," he said.

"I love you too, Sam Evans," she replied, before pulling his head to down for a kiss. Their lips pressed together in a soft expression of love and gratitude. He pulled back and their eyes met. Mercedes literally beamed at him. He smiled back at her.

She seemed to finally come aware of her surroundings again, because her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't remember the song being this long," she told him and Sam grinned.

"It's on repeat," he replied and Mercedes let out a loud laugh as the track restarted. Sam blushed, but he smiled at her. Sam moved his hips from side to side—tapping the beat against her waist and Mercedes' eyes sparkled at him.

"_**Looking out**_," she sang—her voice slightly rough from her previous tears, but still just as beautiful, "_**Across the nighttime**__**—**__**the city winks a sleepless eye. Hear her voice**__**; **__**shake my window**__**—**__**sweet seducing sighs."**_

"_**Get me out**__**,"**_ Sam joined in—his voice softer than on the track as they danced—staring into each other's eyes, _**"I**__**nto the nighttime**__**. **__**Four walls won't hold me tonight**__**. **__**If this town**__** i**__**s just an apple,**__** t**__**hen let me take a bite."**_

_**"If they say, why, why, tell 'em that it's human nature**__**,"**_ The two of them voiced together—harmonies coming together just as flawlessly as they did several years before, "_**Why, why, does he do it that way**__**. **__**If they say,**__** w**__**hy, why, tell 'em that it's human nature**__**. **__**Why, why does he do me that way.**_"

Sam suddenly twirled her out in a spin—taking Mercedes by surprise and making her laugh. Sam watched as her curls flared around her head as she spun, before he tugged her back into his arms. He danced them in a circle, before stepping back and moving around her. His hands trailing across her hips and back as he sang, "_**Reaching out**__** t**__**o touch a stranger-**__**e**__**lectric eyes are everywhere. See that girl**__**. **__**She knows I'm watching**__**. **__**She likes the way I stare."**_

Mercedes laughed when he did the required Michael spin and she grabbed the front of his button down—tugging him back to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they sang together once again. _**"If they say, why, why, tell 'em that it's human nature**__**. **__**Why, why, does he do it that way**__**. **__**If they say,**__** w**__**hy, why, tell 'em that it's human nature**__**. **__**Why, why does he do me that way."**_

Sam rested his forehead against hers—the look in his eyes changing from playful and adoring to something darker and more seductive. The space between their bodies becoming smaller as the mood slowly changed between them. _**"**__**I like livin' this way,**_" she sang—her vibrato on point and better than ever.

_**"I like lovin' this way**_," Sam replied—his voice deeper than before as they stared at each other. He watched her sing the harmonies and echoes along with the recorded version and fell in love with her all over again.

"_**Looking out**__**, a**__**cross the morning**_," she voiced, "_**Where the city's heart begins to beat**__**."**_

"_**Reaching out,"**_ Sam sang as he ran his hands up her sides, _**"I touch her shoulder**__**. **__**I'm dreaming of the street." **_Mercedes shivered in his arms—the look in her brown eyes was overwhelming; like an ocean of desire and love.

_**"If they say, why, why, tell 'em that it's human nature**__**. **__**Why, why, does he do it that way**__**. **__**If they say,**__** w**__**hy, why, tell 'em that it's human nature**__**. **__**Why, why does he do me that way.**_" When the track's instrumental dwindled, Mercedes and Sam were no longer paying any attention.

* * *

><p>Mercedes was ready for just about anything. Hearing Sam sing that song again brought so many feelings back to the surface—the rush of seduction and desire all wrapped in love and appreciation. There was a storm going on in her heart—she could no longer think; all she could do was feel everything that this incredible man was offering to her freely.<p>

Sam leaned forward, his scruff tickling her cheek softly before she felt his lips connect with the side of her jaw. She inhaled sharply as he kissed his way over to her ear and gently tugged on her ear lobe with his teeth.

"Are you ready for part two?" he whispered—his voice was heavy with promise and Mercedes would be lying if she said that it didn't turn her on.

"Depends on what you have in mind," she replied. Sam's low chuckle nearly killed her—she both loved and hated when he got this way; his voice deepened and his attractiveness level went through the roof.

"The things I'm about to do to you, Mrs. Evans," Sam told her, "are definitely not appropriate for our living room."

Her eyes widened slightly and the look Sam shot her as he pulled away made her knees weaken. She was tempted to say fuck propriety and that he could take her right here, but their kids did use the living room constantly and she would never be able to sit in here knowing that Sam fucked her lights out on the couch cushions.

She still remembered the time in the upstairs den at her parents' home in Lima. She still couldn't go in there without blushing. The memory made her cheeks warm and she blushed even harder when she saw the uplifted eyebrow on Sam's face. He gave her a slow smirk as he brushed his thumb across the line of her jaw.

His hand dropped from her face and Sam stepped away from her—an outstretched hand served as an invitation.

"Come with me?" he asked and Mercedes slipped her fingers into his without hesitation. She let him lead her up the stairs and down the hallway until they'd reached their bedroom. Sam walked inside first, tugging Mercedes behind him. She shut the door with her free hand as they passed the threshold and was immediately pulled into a heated embrace.

Sam's kiss was hot—she moaned softly as he swept her into a familiar dance of tongues and lips and seduction. They'd been together for years, and Sam knew exactly how to get her going, but something about this time felt different.

She'd never felt overwhelmed by Sam's passion since the night she lost her virginity to him all those years ago, but his kiss was more intimate—more powerful and she didn't have the presence of mind to figure out why.

Mercedes was ready to rip Sam's clothes off, but she was taken aback when he abruptly broke their kiss. She let out an involuntary whine of protest and Sam's green eyes glistened with arousal and amusement. Mercedes tried to reconnect their mouths, but Sam leaned away from her.

She stared at him in confusion.

"Strip," he told her and Mercedes blinked.

"What?"

"Take off all your clothes," he replied and she wouldn't admit that she was utterly bewildered.

"I remember you saying that taking my clothes off was_ your_ favorite part," she said teasingly and Sam chuckled.

"It is," he agreed, "but not this time. This time I want to try something different."

"Should I be scared?"

"I have a feeling that you'll enjoy it."

Mercedes didn't know what was going on here, but she trusted Sam—he'd never hurt her. And it wasn't like they hadn't been sexually adventurous before. She nodded slowly, before stepping back from him.

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and waited. As she untied her dress and let it slide off her shoulders to the floor—Mercedes kept her eyes on her husband. His green eyes were burning with intensity. She didn't know what had gotten into him, but she wasn't going to complain.

She removed her bra and then slid her panties down her legs. Finally she stood before him, completely naked. Sam opened his arms to her and she walked over to him. He stopped her when she was standing directly in front of his knees, and grabbed her hands. Sam stood up from the bed.

"Lay down for me?" he asked—his voice gentle and Mercedes nodded.

He helped her onto the bed, kicking his shoes and socks off before he climbed on after her. Sam had her lay down flat on her back—her head elevated by pillows and he laid down next to her.

"What's going on?" she questioned—the curiosity was eating at her. She had no idea what he was doing.

"I told you that I was going to tell you how thankful I was for you today," Sam replied, "And I plan on making good on that statement."

She stared at him—understanding, but at the same time not comprehending his meaning. Sam shot her a soft smile, before grabbing her right hand. Mercedes watched as he kissed the palm of her hand—his lips soft and warm to her sensitive skin. He traced the lines of her hand with his tongue and placed kisses along each section of her fingers.

Mercedes' breath hitched when he kissed her fingertips and then he kissed his way down the back of her hand. Sam pressed his lips to the vein on the inside of her wrist—she was sure that he could feel her heart beating faster.

"God," Sam whispered—his voice mesmerizing in the sheer love and gratitude she could hear in it as he spoke; it made the air in the room seem heavy. "I thank you for this hand and these fingers and this palm. It has dried many tears, brought much pleasure, and played a huge part in building a home."

As he talked, Mercedes' heart grew—was it possible for her heart to fill her whole body? How could she feel so loved and feel so much love for him all at once? She watched and listened as Sam kissed his way down her forearm—whispering thanks to God for every single thing his lips touched.

His mouth left trails of heat, desire, and consuming love in its wake. He had barely finished her first arm, and she wasn't sure that she'd be able to survive the rest. Sam kissed his way across her shoulder, collarbone, and sternum—praising God for something so imperfectly perfect.

With every mole he kissed, Mercedes felt her arousal grow. He had her in tears of joy and need by the time his mouth reached her jaw. His teeth nipped and he licked and whispered words of love across her sensitive skin.

Her center heavy with desire and her breasts longing to be touched, Mercedes felt like she was on fire when Sam kissed her ear lobe.

"God," he whispered in her ear, his lips pressing against her lobe, "I thank you for these ears and how they listen to the words of those she calls family and friends. I thank you for giving these ears so she can sing to herself and create song after song."

Sam kissed his way across her cheeks and nose and eyebrows and forehead. She gripped his biceps as he placed a kiss on each eye, before kissing her mouth.

"I thank God for these eyes, because they possess my heart every time I look into them," he said against her mouth. "I thank God for these lips, because your kisses are my kryptonite and my greatest strength at the same time."

Then he kissed her as hard and as deeply as Mercedes had been longing for since he'd started. She let out a groan, her hands grasping the strands at the back of his head as his tongue plundered her mouth. She could feel his hardness—hot and heavy against her hip—and she wanted it; she wanted him so badly that she ached.

She let out a needy keen when he pulled away and Sam pressed a kiss against her mouth again. The look in his eyes was electric—his desire was crackling across his irises warring with the love that she could see in his gaze.

Sam looked possessed by his emotions and it was the most attractive thing she'd ever seen in her life. He continued his way across her body and down her other arm—not leaving a single place without a kiss.

His hands were brushing her bare skin—leaving scorching trails across her body. Sam kissed his way down each of her ribs, before she felt his hands cover her breasts; the heat of his palms coming into contact with her hardened nipples made Mercedes gasp.

She arched into his touch and her hands fell atop his—forcing his hands against her harder. She needed more; he was driving her crazy. The love was almost too much for her to handle.

"God," Sam rasped, his hands kneading her sensitive flesh and Mercedes moaned at the sensations tearing through her. "I thank you for these breasts. They have provided sustenance for my children and behind one rests her heart—the one thing about Mercedes Jones that I could never love more."

Mercedes wanted to cry—the love was bursting in her chest and her body was straining for Sam; she wanted him so badly. When Sam's hands squeezed her breasts and his mouth descended on one of her nipples, she groaned in pleasure.

His mouth was hot, and wet, and his tongue swirled her sensitive nub—the sensations that shot through her body went straight to her center and she would never get enough. Sam's mouth lifted off her and he blew across her moist skin. She groaned again at the feeling; her fingers digging into Sam's biceps.

"Sam," she gasped when he switched to the other side—paying her other breast equal attention. He suckled and she bit her lip to stop from crying out. Whatever had gotten into Sam—she wasn't sure she could handle it again anytime soon, but she was excited to see what else he had in mind.

Sam removed his mouth and resumed his prayer of thanks across her body. His hands trailed down her sides and he gripped her hips. When he kissed across her stomach though, Mercedes cried. His words were so haunting, so loving, and so sincere that she could barely breathe.

Sam kissed every single one of her stretch marks. "God," he said, "I thank you for this belly. I thank you for every single mark because it shows the strength and love that it takes to bear a child. I thank you for allowing me the chance to fill this womb with life and I thank you for the reminder that she will forever be the woman who opened her body to me and gave me the most beautiful gifts that I could ever receive."

How could anyone love someone so much? What had she ever done to deserve a man like Sam Evans?

Sam kissed across her hips and down her legs—all the way to her feet, before he moved to her center. She felt his hands grip her waist as he settled between her legs. He'd done nothing but tease and caress her for the past hour; Mercedes would die if he didn't give her any serious contact.

And when he placed his lips against her labia—whispering his prayer of thanks; Mercedes' eyes rolled. The sounds she made when he finally swiped his tongue across her swollen folds would've made a prostitute blush.

Sam licked and sucked and mouthed his way across her flesh in a masterful dance that came from years of experience. He sucked her clit into his mouth, before sweeping his tongue in circles from the hood of her clitoris and all the way down to her opening. She had been so consumed in the feel of Sam's mouth that she'd missed him moving his hand.

The feel of his long fingers thrusting inside her had her hands twisting in the sheets on the bed as her back arched. Sam's finger twisted once and he crooked a finger against the upward wall of her inner walls and Mercedes let out a long moan when he rubbed against her g-spot.

The sudden rush of orgasm had her hips lifting off the bed and her whole body shuddered. Sam eased her through it. She felt him place a soft kiss against her folds, before he crawled his way back up her body.

Mercedes was still reeling—her chest heaving and her whole body limp. Sam's eyes were bright when he gazed down at her. She gave him a dazed smile, before recovering enough to grab him by the shirt and pull his mouth down to hers.

They kissed hard and fast—Sam was practically throbbing against her leg. She tore at the buttons of his shirt; desperate to make him feel all that she was feeling. Their kisses grew sloppy and frantic as she ripped Sam's shirt open, buttons flying everywhere.

She didn't even get the shirt all the way off his arms before her fingers scratched their way down his chest and gripped his belt buckle. Mercedes tugged at his jeans and belt—the two of them breaking apart only for gasps of air before diving right back in.

She had Sam's clothes off before they knew it and their hands were everywhere. Her hands were leaving scratches on his back and she was pulling lightly at his hair. Sam was so ready that neither of them even thought about a condom as he lined up with her entrance. He slid in with one smooth motion that tore a loud groan from both of them.

He felt like solid heat inside of her and Mercedes needed him to move—_now_. Sam's hands gripped her hips as he thrust and Mercedes held on for dear life. They were both lost to the pleasure they could feel.

The love in the room was thicker than ever and the attraction was a drug that neither were willing to let fade. Their moans and groans and gasps mixed into a symphony of biological orchestration—neither needed expletives to express the pleasure they felt.

"Sam," Mercedes gasped. She let a breathy moan escape—her fingertips clutching his shoulders as he fucked her well and truly into the mattress. Everything else was inconsequential—she could only feel, see, smell, and hear him. He had her enraptured.

"Cede," he groaned—his hips moving faster and faster as her legs wrapped around his waist and offered him both an even tighter angle and more leverage. "Fuck," he growled as she let out another gasp.

Mercedes felt like her mind was blown—this couldn't possibly be an orgasm. It was building like a thunderous wave; her whole body was shaking and her body was on fire.

That fire burned brighter and hotter and stronger until it consumed her—she screamed; the world fading to white noise and several explosions taking place all over her body. She arched and clenched around Sam—feeling every contraction and tightening of her vaginal walls around his cock.

She vaguely registered the sound of Sam reaching his breaking point, but she couldn't move. Her entire body felt boneless—was this weightlessness she felt really okay? Sam had blown her mind before, but it had never been so powerful before.

When she came down from her skyrocket up to heaven's gates, Mercedes was breathing hard—Sam still inside her and his face was buried in her shoulder. He was gasping too. She weakly lifted one arm and let her fingers trail through his sweaty locks.

He rolled his head to the side and she looked down into his eyes. "Hello beautiful," he said and Mercedes practically beamed at him.

"I'm thankful for everything that you are, Sam," she told him. "Never forget that."

"I promise, my love," he replied.

Sam moved himself until he'd rolled off of her and then he pulled her into his embrace; her head on his bare chest.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he told her.

Mercedes laughed softly. "I'm never going to be able to celebrate this holiday again without thinking of tonight."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It is when I get a lady boner at the table with your parents and mine."

Sam laughed and Mercedes could hear the rumble in his chest as they cuddled.

"I think it was worth it."

She tilted her head back to look up at him and she smiled.

"Always," she said. Sam pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. "I love you, and this was a very happy Thanksgiving."

"I love you, too, Cede," he replied, kissing her lips again, and then her forehead. When Sam flicked the switch above their nightstand to turn off the lights in the bedroom, Mercedes pulled the covers over both of them.

They fell asleep together in a cocoon of sheer love and adoration; something untouchable had passed between them—their love cemented by prayers that were meant for them and them alone.

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><p><strong>REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Until next time! :D<strong>


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